And it's Been Awhile, but I Still Feel the Same
by poisonnwine
Summary: "She realizes she hasn't said it-hasn't told him what her heart has sounded out all night; all this time. "I love you," she pants urgently." Time Jump! Spencer and Toby broke up a year and a half ago, but how long can they really stand to be apart? Oneshot. Ft. Haleb.


**a/n: How did this get so long? I'm not sure. I've written like THREE variations of this, and this is the one I worked on the most. I don't know. I re-edited and re-read it a lot, so like? I feel like that's the reason I dislike it? IDK TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! The time jump stresses me the fuck out. And I hope they are together, but I've heard a lot of spoilers they aren't... so this happened. Title from Ed Sheeran's Give Me Love**

* * *

and it's been awhile, but i still feel the same

She works night shifts.

Ever since the Dollhouse, she hasn't gotten a single good night of sleep. She heard this sometimes happens to women after they have children; once they go into labor, they never have full, restful night of sleep again. She's heard a few women say it, especially now since she deals with mothers on a weekly basis. Of course, telling them why she will never get a full night of sleep again would be a very long, very excruciating tale, so instead she just offers an empathetic look, ignoring the "you will never understand until you have children of your own" comments.

So she chose to work the night shift because her sleeping schedule was already way too fucked to fix. She also chose it because it is easier to know the sun is rising and shedding the safety of sunlight instead of dark, ambiguous and ominous night consuming her.

It's almost 7AM. Her shift is almost over, but she is still working her ass off and tending to a little, torn up boy and his seemingly more torn up mother. His mother was walking him to daycare, where he tripped on his shoelace and managed to score a deep enough cut for stitches. He was crying when he first came in, but stopped soon after Spencer told him he needed to be a big boy. Getting the mother to calm and quiet down was a whole other story. Trying to calm her was dubious. Spencer gave up after ten minutes, and just focused on the boy.

Spencer decided to become a nurse. It was her second semester of her freshman year when she decided. The idea of helping people appealed her, the pay was pretty good-good enough for her-and most importantly, she wouldn't be a lawyer. It wasn't until her last year that she decided to become an ER nurse.

She doesn't know why ER intrigued her the most. Maybe it is because it is usually so busy. It is frantic and tends to be unorderly, which pokes at her OCD mannered ways, but it keeps her on her feet and her mind from straying. But the best part is after work, sometimes she'll be so exhausted that she will just pass out.

Lastly, it reminds her that other people have been through the trauma of their own. Sure, a young boy getting a little wound on his forehead is not exactly up to par with what most have been through, but still. Pain is pain, whatever it may be.

She leaves the hospital at about 7:45 AM. She takes the subway and walks the rest of the way back to her apartment.

It's 8 AM by the time she gets inside, and it smells like smoke, which she hates. Her roommate thinks she'll never notice. She works twelve-hour shifts, so her roommate is convinced she'll get away with it, even though Spencer has confronted her about it, time and time again.

She has enough money to buy a place of her own now. She could buy a house if she really wanted. She's been working a whole year as a nurse already and hasn't spent much of her salary. Most of it just goes to visiting her friends.

Emily has moved back to Pennsylvania, a few towns over from Rosewood (much too close if you ask Spencer), Hanna lives in Manhattan, with Caleb, and Aria's current residence is in San Francisco, California. Meanwhile, Spencer doesn't even live in the states, nor North America for that matter. She lives in Europe, in London.

She left Rosewood to go to school here and never came back. It's been five years. After her schooling, she was planning to move back, but then Hanna and Caleb got engaged, and she just... didn't. A few months later, Aria had a ring on her left hand, fourth finger, and the idea of coming back to the states just deemed unsettling.

Hanna was with Caleb and Aria was with Ezra, both marrying their 'high school sweethearts' even if Aria's was her alleged teacher at some point. It just got her thinking about Toby. And that put her in a state of depression. She was inconsolable for about six or seven months. In those months, her communication with her friends strikingly diminished. It was apparent to them, and they tried to reach out, but Spencer convinced them she was just busy with work and London life.

She finally started feeling better about four or five months ago. But now, in a month and half, she will be seeing Toby.

Toby lives in The Worst Place on Earth (Rosewood), which means he is relatively close to her friends. Over the year and half that he's lived in Rosewood, he's become even greater friends with Emily, best friends with Caleb, and even though Spencer knows Hanna will never actually say it to her face, one of Hanna's closest friends, if not her closest guy friend. So, her ex-boyfriend has cozied up with her best friends, and here she is in London, on the outs.

A couple months after Hanna announced her engagement to Spencer, the blonde told her that Toby would be Caleb's best man. It was in the midst of Spencer's Toby Depression. Spencer almost didn't accept the Skype call.

"I tried to stop him!" Hanna claimed, but her expression spoke otherwise, even her tone. She liked Toby. She wanted him at her wedding. In the wedding group? Even better!

She doesn't blame her friends for liking Toby. He's a good guy. He's a moral, honest, humorous, genuinely good guy.

Sometimes Hanna will be telling a story, and a point in the story will come up that involves Toby. When that point in the story comes about, Hanna will suddenly get nervous and awkward and skim through it and cut out the details. Hanna has pictures of her and Toby-only her and Toby (selfies of her and Toby)-on her phone, but Spencer hasn't once seen her post one of them on Instagram or even the outdated facebook. Spencer knows why too. It's because of her. Hanna is trying to be a good friend, and hate him, but she truly, secretly likes him.

Emily is less secretive about it, but still doesn't mention him, doesn't bring him into conversation or talk to him in her presence. She respects their break up and is very Emily about it.

She told her friends, recently, post-Toby Depression that she doesn't care if they are friends with him, and as true as it was, she is glad Aria has not befriended her ex-boyfriend. It is good to have someone who knows him, but is not friends with him. Not that she wants to bash on Toby-not anymore, anyways-but it just feels good knowing Aria is totally on her side. Not that her friends would ever choose Toby over her, but Spencer would never ask them to choose anyways.

She falls asleep, even with the reeking smell of smoke hanging in the apartment, and like every other night, it's restless. And as bad as the smell of smoke is, she knows it's better than the loneliness that will greet her in living alone.

* * *

They broke up a year and a half ago, maybe give or take a few months.

It was messy and complicated and definitely not clean cut.

There was a lot of fighting, crying, and distance (both physically and emotionally so.) This angst went on for months, and left her in a constant state of meloncholy and heartbreak for months straight.

It wasn't always horrible between them though. They had it really good for a while. After Charles DiLaurentis, who took on the name of Wren Kingston after faking his death (the accent and charm were all fake), was found and murdered, everything began working out in her life. She was still working on fighting her demons, but she was finally able to heal.

The first huge, happy milestone in her life after Charles' death: she got an acceptance letter to Oxford.

The first person she told was Toby. He was so happy for her, he picked her up and twirled her around, both of them laughing giddily, as if they've never known loss or pain or hurt. He kissed her so deeply, her toes curling and cheeks burning bright with crimson. His lips were soft and tongue bold with its movements; their clothes were off in minutes. It was the middle of the day, and she had to go tell others of her accomplishment, but it didn't matter. Not in that moment.

A couple days later, after Spencer told everyone who could possibly care of her acceptance and all the people of Facebook, who could probably possible couldn't care less, Toby brought up the distance. It was almost 4AM. She was in his bed while her parents thought she was at Hanna's. Instead, she was having passionate, hot, loving, relentless sex with her boyfriend.

They were both on their sides, gazing at one another adoringly. They were talking for two hours, sleep less crucial than the need to converse. There was a lull in conversation, and Spencer's eyes were starting to grow heavy, which was strange because usually it was Toby who fell asleep first, but he kept staring at her, holding her gaze and occasionally giving her a kiss.

"I know we talked about this a little, but I never really gave you an answer, partially because I wasn't sure how serious you were."

She focused on him, blinking once to vanquish her tiredness. "What is that you're referring to?" Spencer pondered aloud.

"Me coming with you."

Her heart stopped momentarily, only to pick up again shortly after. Her lips unfolded into a soft smile. "Yeah?" she said.

"How serious were you?"

"It was a definite offer."

And that was it mostly. Toby was coming with her.

Her parents refused to fund her if she chose to live with Toby. Spencer fought against it, or tried to anyways, but it was of no use. There was no changing her lawyer parents' minds. But Toby didn't seem to mind too much that he had to find his own place. He told her that she could stay over anytime, and she ended up being there more than her own dorm, little to her parents' knowledge.

Toby spent the summer finding work and housing in London. He ended up getting a job as a landscaper at some country club. It wasn't ideal. He didn't even want to be a landscaper, but it was only for a short period. He got a little, tiny, one room loft, which he would only move out of once he returned back to Rosewood years later.

She spent a lot of that summer talking to her dorm mate over email, and making bucket lists of what she would do in England when she got there. Her roommate, Samantha, seemed genuinely sweet and kind. She was from the US too. Oregon.

Spencer still talks to her sometimes, but the friendship slowly died once Samantha moved back to the US. Right now, she resides in Kansas.

Samatha was one of the few people who witnessed how terrible Spencer and Toby's break up was. Sam hates Toby for breaking her heart. Sam witnessed how much turmoil Spencer went through because of him and was always there with a shoulder to cry on, but truly, she just didn't get it. She couldn't.

It was the Spring of her third year, and school was a month from being complete. Toby was doing well from himself, so well for himself that it left Spencer in endless question of why Toby refused to move into a bigger and better loft. Toby told her he didn't want to spend money on that, not when the one he had was already good enough. "Besides," he said. "Once you graduate, we're going to move in together, and what's another year and half?" (A year and half later, she went out apartment hunting on her own.)

Toby was making beautiful houses and crafting beautiful pieces of furniture on the sidelines. His boss adored him, and so did the rest of London. He was making more money than he ever had, not that the money was the most important thing, but he was successful. He was constantly busy with projects. Although, not too busy for her. He seemed happy, and she was too. They were happy together. The happiness felt foreign to her, and at first, unnatural; it took so long, but she finally reached it.

They became so invested with each other. Without her three best friends around, most of her free time was spent with him. Sure, she had friends and Sam in London, and Toby had a couple too, but neither of them spent much time apart. Spencer would hang out with Samantha and her other friends periodically, making sure she was not one of those girls whose social life was dominated by her relationship, but Toby truly became a best friend to her.

Without A or Alison or Rosewood, they had nothing to really fight about. Sure, they had a couple arguments every now and then, but they were always resolved and meaningless. Until one night in the beginning of May. Their elation was crushed; their jubilation taken from them. It started with a phone call.

Someone dug up Charles' body from his grave.

Spencer found out in her dorm. Thankfully Samantha was out because Spencer freaked after, falling into a full break down. She called Toby, begging him to come over. Within minutes, his arms were around her and he was holding her close to him, kissing her temple and head and shoulders. They sat on her bed, her body wedged between his legs, her back against Toby's chest, and his arms wrapped around her protectively.

She calmed down after awhile, convincing herself it was not the end of her new, better life. Just because someone dug up the body of her dead stalker/kidnapper, does not mean that it will have any effect on her or her friends. Whoever dug him up, cannot bring him back to life.

Then... Toby poked at her happiness again.

"I have to tell you something."

She asked him what, a little scared by his guilt-ridden and sad tone.

"Tanner called me last night. Told me what happened..."

It took her a moment to register what he was saying. "You knew?" she gasped, an assortment of emotions passing through her-all bad ones, no doubt.

"Tanner called me yesterday night. This morning," he stammered, his face wrinkling up a little. "At like 4:30AM." He waited a moment, watching her, awaiting a reaction. Then he sucked in a breath and said, "She wanted me to check if Melissa was in London, and she wasn't, Spence."

He looked pitiful and guilty, and she just wanted to cry. She moved away from him, sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms holding her together.

Ignoring the comment about Melissa, she inhaled deeply, her chest rising, and questioned him. "Why didn't you tell me when you found out?" She didn't look at him.

"Because. I just-I didn't want you to deal with it. I thought, maybe they'd figure it out quickly, and then you could know after and wouldn't be burdened with it."

"I thought we were over this," she exasperated, feeling her copper eyes sting with dew. "The secrets, the lying... I thought that wasn't us anymore."

"It's not!" He cried. He grabbed her shoulder. She shoved it away. He sighed and took a seat next to her on the edge of the bed, his head bobbing up and down, trying to get some eye contact. "Spencer, I love you. I didn't tell you because I couldn't bear destroying your happiness."

"You didn't think I could handle it." She muttered out, taking in a long, angry breath through her nose.

"That's not what I'm saying," he grumbled, grabbing her hand in his. She tried to pry hers away, but he wouldn't let her go. "Spencer, I'm sorry. I know I should have told you. It's just..." he looks down, letting her hand go. She peered over at him a second, but his head was down anyways. He didn't even notice. "I was so happy here, with you, and I knew you were too, and we were in such a good place, and telling you... I just wanted you to live in that perfect bubble of ignorance a little longer."

She swallows the lump in her throat, a tear sliding down her cheek. She rubs it away with her index finger. They engage in eye contact.

"I'm sorry Spencer. We aren't the couple we were in Rosewood, okay? We don't and won't have secrets. This was just a one time mistake."

She nodded ever so slightly, which meant forgiveness. "I just... We were such a mess back then," her voice was hoarse. "I don't want to ever be like that again. I'm so happy with you now, and how things are, I don't think I could return to that."

"Me either," he soothed her, caressing her cheek. He moved his hand into her hair. "And we won't."

But they did become a mess again. It wasn't from the secrets, but it was from the root of all their lying- the destructive art of protection.

* * *

The next month and a half flies by.

Nothing unusual happens in the ER, but it is busy. Spencer takes a lot of over-time shifts to cease her anxiety over seeing Toby. It's been about a year and a half since she last saw him. She saw a couple pictures of him on Caleb and Emily's Facebook and Instagram, but not very often did he make an appearance on his own. She still had him on Facebook, but he never posted anything even when Facebook was cool to use, let alone now.

She realizes she feels old. She's only twenty three, but she feels old. Her two best friends, ney, her sisters are getting married for Christ's sake! How did they get here? So many years separating them from A and high school, or should the two not be interchangeable?

She leaves tomorrow. How did the month and half fly by so quickly?

She packs, folding her clothes in neat little squares and planning her outfits already. She double checks that she has everything, and then does it a third time just in case. She compiles her carry on bag, and chooses things wisely, not having a lot of space. She is almost done packing when her roommate, the smoker, Camille sticks her head through the door.

"Want to go to the bar?"

"Yeah, just let me finish packing and change." Because Spencer never misses an opportunity to get hammered the day before she re-visits her ex-boyfriend, Toby Cavanaugh.

Camille nods almost indifferently, like her presence at the bar didn't really matter to her, and ducks her head out of the door. When they go to the bar together, they don't spend much time together. Usually, Camille will go find a guy to feel her up, or Spencer will end up flirting with whatever guy plops down next to her. They basically just go together not to be alone.

Camille is unlike Samatha in the sense that she is not as happy. In fact, she is quite the downer. Samatha would make pancakes in the morning and sing in the shower, Camille is hard to hold conversations with and spends most of her time in her room.

Without Samantha, Spencer probably would have never have gotten over her break up with Toby. She constantly picked her back up when she was down and never gave up on her. When Spencer was rather depressed about Toby earlier this year, Camille didn't seem to take notice, or at least didn't say anything.

They sit in the bar, martinis in front of them. Camille already spots her target for the night. She tells Spencer to look over at him, and she gives a nod of approval. "Tall, dark, and handsome," Camille says, getting up and taking her drink with her. "Here I come."

Spencer sits at the bar, ordering drink after drink, the alcohol not being enough to cease her worrying mind. After four drinks, a man sits next to her. He flashes a sort of coy smile, winking, before ordering a drink for himself.

Once the bartender slides him his drink, he faces Spencer.

"Hello love, aren't you a sure pleaser to the eye..."

Spencer smiles bashfully, flushing a little. He smiles back at her. The guy is cute-really cute. Blonde hair, green eyes, a strong and bulky build, but the best part about him comes about when he smiles. It stretches wide across his face, his square teeth pearly and strong.

"And you are certainly an enjoyable view too."

"American." He notes. "I like American girls," he raises an eyebrow, a half smirk slinking out on his face as he takes a guzzle of his Vodka Soda.

"Well, I've been living here for five years. Do I still count as one?" her voice is soft but higher in pitch than usual. She flirtatiously stares at him, spinning the straw in her drink.

"Oh yes. As long as you got that adorable American accent."

She ends up making out with the guy. He gets to second base, but she cuts off him there. She just can't go any farther.

Sex to her has always needed to be intimate. Toby and she were dating almost a year before they crossed that line, and that was Toby. Her longest relationship since Toby lasted three months, and while she told herself it didn't matter-she wasn't a virgin, she's done it before-she ultimately could just not let herself go through with it. They did other things-hand stuff-but that's it. He seemed impatient and annoyed, and it was probably one of the reasons for the inevitable break up. It was simple and easy, though, much unlike the break up between her and Toby.

The day marking The Beginning of the End happened a few days after she found about Charles' body being dug up. Toby invited her over, saying they needed to "talk about a few things." The foreboding words left her worried and concerned. Everyone knew that "we need to talk" never lead to good things.

Gathering up courage and false hope, Spencer visited him at his tiny loft. She let herself in and took a seat next to her boyfriend on his small futon, after a short and somewhat awkward greeting. He told her he had some "news" that she would "probably not like to hear, or just like period." He was right. After building it up and preparing her, stroking her hands and giving her a soft kiss, he told her the horrid news.

"Tanner called me again," he said. "She wants me to come back to help with the case."

Toby didn't have to specify which case. It was The Case. The case that ruined everything she had with him.

"That's ridiculous," she barked out a dark chuckle, almost annoyed that he would even consider going back. Little did she know he already told Tanner he would be there. "No, Toby, that's not... You haven't even been a police officer in three years. Let someone else handle it."

He looked at her a long moment, guilt etched across his featured. He swallowed, inhaled sharply, and told her that he already took it.

Spencer gaped at him, nearly losing her breath. She went stiff, refraining away from him ever so slightly. "Without even talking to me about it?" she asked, aghast.

But it was rhetorical. The answer was obvious.

"I knew what you would have said, Spencer."

"Glad to know I'm so predictable that you don't even have to consult me about things." She recoiled from him completely then, crossing her arms and legs, and turning her body to the side.

"Spencer, come on," he tried. "That's not what I meant."

Silence filled between them.

"I'm doing this for you. I want to end this for you, Spencer. Tanner thinks I'll really be of help. No one knows the case. She called Lorenzo, but he declined the offer."

"I wonder why," she said sarcastically.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping down. "I want to make things better for you."

"Then don't go!" she pleaded, exasperated. She turned to him now, meeting him in the eyes. He looked so desperate to find a way to fix things for her, but so helpless in what the right thing to would be, even though she was literally shouting the answer to him. It reminded her of grade school when the teacher would ask a question, and the whole class would abstain from answering, except for her. Yet, the teacher never called on her. She was always left waving her hand in the air while one of her peers struggled to find an answer.

Right now she feels like Toby is completely ignoring her wagging and waving, raised hand.

"Spencer, if I can help with this case, then I should. The sicko who took his body needs to be caught."

"I haven't gotten any texts or anything. Not to sound apathetic, but why do you feel such a need to capture this guy?"

"Because I've seen you the past few days-whenever you receive a text, or when your just sitting around. You don't seem as relaxed. You're retreating into old habits." He said. "You even look like a mess, Spencer." It was almost an afterthought. He was right, though. About everything. She had barely been able to sleep. Sure, her normal sleeping habits were bad, but now she once again qualified herself as insomniac. She had rings around her eyes and her nails were way too short from biting.

"I just want to make you feel safe," he told her soothingly. He took her hand in his. She let him. "I want you to be safe from this guy, even if he is possibly not a real threat to you. I just, I've barely been able to sleep, knowing that guy is out there, even if he is a whole ocean away..." Toby shook his head, shuddering. He shifted his gaze to her once again, "Please try to understand."

She takes her hand from under his gently before shaking her head in one stride. "I don't, and I won't. Ever." She relinquished. "Toby, this is dangerous, you're just putting me in more of a frenzy. Don't you see that?"

He stared at her, maybe considering her side for a moment, but still didn't speak on behalf of it.

"Do I really need to say it?" she said in aghast. "I need you, Toby. I need you. I need you here." Her eyes began to sting at that moment because instinctively she knew there was no changing his mind. He was doing this, with her support or without it, and she'd just have to deal with it. It was unfair and she felt downhearted that even after all these years, he was still putting his obsession over keeping her safe over her emotional needs. Had he learned nothing? Had she?

That's the day she started to question if their relationship ever evolved at all, or if they were simply just faced with fewer obstacles.

That's the day that lead them to their inexorable fallout.

* * *

Her flight to New York lands early. She calls Hanna, telling her she landed earlier than expected, and Hanna tells her she will be right there, but it takes about thirty minutes with New York traffic to get to the airport. Spencer tells her it is fine-she will just take a cab, even if it will cost her a little.

She checks her luggage, and then departs from the airport, spending five minutes trying to wave down a taxi.

She frets about seeing Toby the whole ride to her motel. Hanna and Caleb offered a place on their couch for her in their tiny New York apartment, but Spencer kindly declined the offer and reserved a room at a nearby motel. The motel was so close to their apartment that she could walk there in less than twenty minutes. That's what is good about New York-everything is so close together.

Motels are weirdly symbolic for her and Toby. It's where they had their first kiss, where she essentially realized she had feelings for him, where they slept together, just side by side, in a quiet serenity. She forgave him for faking his death in a motel. She forgave him for putting her through a mental break down in a motel.

In a motel, she kissed him and he held and made love to her, which only prompted her to forgive him more, to completely put everything he did and didn't do behind her. But looking back, she shouldn't have forgave him that fast. He was obsessed with uncovering A that he put her feelings and emotional stability aside. That's when the pattern started.

Maybe if she disciplined him more, things would be different now. He would have learned. But she was too eager, too young, too in love; she couldn't wait it out. She couldn't keep away from him. Just like Adderall and coffee, he was a drug. She was addicted to him, and she needed her fix. She couldn't detach herself from him.

And that's why, even when he tries to contact her relentlessly and infinitely, with emails, letters, and phone calls, she ignores him. She doesn't respond. She reads them, she doesn't have enough will power not to, but she does have enough will power not to respond.

She tries to remember the last time Toby tried reaching out to her. It was probably three, maybe three and half months ago. It was an email, a lengthy one. He said he was sorry (for the umpteenth time) "that things ended so poorly" between them. He mentioned wondering if she even read the emails he sent her. He hoped so. He mentioned Hanna's wedding, telling her that he was really looking forward to seeing her. He updated her on some of his life, and that's about it. Or at least all she can remember.

Remembering she has not checked her email in days, she goes to look.

Under a heap of facebook and twitter and alumni and spam messages, she spots one from Toby. It came one week ago, exactly. She doesn't remember seeing it and briefly wonders how she missed it before opening it.

Hey. If you really want me to stop trying to contact you, just tell me. Reply with one word. Just say yes if you want me to leave you alone forever. I'll stay out of your way at the wedding, the rehearsal dinner-everything. You will never hear from me again, at least until you want to hear from me.

I hope the answer is no, or you just don't respond, because maybe that means I still have a chance.

She is dumbfounded and speechless over the message. She rereads it, and then reads it a third time. All she has to do is say yes if she wants him off her tail forever. Part of her is jumping at the opportunity, ready to end things between them for good. Finally they will be clean cut. But the other part of her...

She just simply cannot. As much as she wants to separate herself from Toby, she can ultimately not cut him off completely. In truth, she likes hearing about his life. She likes knowing what he's doing-how he is doing, without ever having to actually converse. She has an all-access pass to the events of his life, and does not have to offer anything of herself in return.

Except until now.

He will know she still cares if she does not give him a "yes."

But still, for the life of her, she cannot tell him to stop, cannot tell him to leave her alone for good.

She deletes the message.

* * *

The taxi driver pulls into her motel. She has to use Visa to pay for the ride because all her money is in euros, and she is on her way, luggage in hand to her room in the motel.

She changes into a maroon colored, polyester dress, before unpacking completely and calling Hanna.

That night, they go to club for Hanna's bachelorette party. Hanna wears a pink boa, with a tiara crown, and holds a wand. Spencer gleefully catches up with her best friends. Aria flew in two days ago, and Emily will be staying at Hanna and Caleb the next couple nights (until the wedding.)

Spencer gets a first look at Aria's big engagement ring, and eyes and awes at it just the right amount, not taking the spotlight from Hanna and not seeming envious. Her friends get drunk while Spencer restraints because she's insanely exhausted with jet lag and was hungover this morning. She still has fun, though, dancing around freely with her friends and basking in Hanna's excitement and blissfulness. She feels genuinely happy and wonders if she'll ever find better friends than the ones she already has-the answer is a definite no.

Around midnight (which would be 6AM in London) she tells her girls that she needs to get some rest. They boo, forcing her to stay longer. Hanna drags her out for one last dance, after calling her a "grandma."

By 1AM, Spencer is back in her motel, lying in her old, springy mattress, wearing her flannel pajamas and ready for bed. She falls asleep quickly, only waking up a few times throughout the night (which is better than normal.)

* * *

She wakes about seven hours later, feeling a pang of misconception. Her time is so off. It's so weird to be back in eastern US time when she's been apart from it for so long.

After showering, putting on a fresh coat of makeup, and feeling slightly refreshed, she leaves her motel. It's still only 10 AM. She started a group chat with her friends, asking them to alert her when they are awake and ready to face the world. She will wait at least an hour until strolling over to Hanna and Caleb's. They probably came home much later than Spencer did.

In the meantime, Spencer goes to some coffee shop and orders a scone and coffee. She nips at the cinnamon scone and sips her black coffee, and for a second, imagines this as her life. She thinks it could be pretty good. Hanna close enough to walk to, Emily close enough to drive to, Aria in the same country. It just all sounds so refreshing.

It's not like the US has a lack of nursing jobs. In fact, they are desperate for nurses. There is a demand for them. Spencer could get a job, pronto, if she applied.

The more she thinks about it, the more she likes the idea of moving to New York.

London is great, but it's severely lacking people. She's friends with her roommate, but she's not a friend she can confide in. After Sam went to Oregon, Spencer didn't really have any person she could confide in over there.

She makes a note to call Sam. She even thinks about doing it now, but someone comes up on her phone. Someone is calling her instead.

And that someone is Toby.

She sucks in a breath. She still has a day free of him. Tomorrow is the rehearsal dinner, but tonight is nothing. Tonight is just the day before the rehearsal dinner, a day that doesn't matter. A day where she won't be seeing him.

For a second, she considers picking up. It would be better to talk to him the first time in forever without her friends lurking around them. The second drags out long enough for the ringing to cease. She doesn't get enough time to decide.

A ding, signaling a new voicemail, follows shortly. She takes a sip of her coffee, swallowing before picking up her phone and listening to it.

"Hello, Spencer. Heard you're in New York, well I am too. You didn't respond to my last email, which has left me guessing. I'm wondering if we can talk before we see each other at the rehearsal dinner? Just to... clear the air, I guess."

Then it just ends there. No goodbye. No anything. Just a proposition.

She feels... weird. Just strange, and unnerved, because she isn't exactly sure what she wants from Toby. And up until yesterday, when she read that email from him, she didn't think she wanted anything from him. But the prospect of his messages stopping, his phone calls ceasing, and his updates ridding, makes her realize that she most in factly does want something from him.

But she refuses to believe that she wants to rekindle their relationship; their rocky, messy, extreme, relationship. She doesn't want to go back to that. She won't allow herself to.

Even when she was depressed earlier this year, she never wanted him back. It wasn't like she had just got dumped and wanted her ex-boyfriend to come confess his love for her. It was more... just being unhappy that things ended so poorly between them, that she was was so alone, and felt so out of touch with her friends, and Toby, someone who had been so indubitably important in her life at one point. She felt sad that she and Toby, her epic love, did not work out.

She doesn't know what she wants from Toby.

She knows she doesn't want a relationship, but she also knows she doesn't want him completely out her life. And maybe, now, after a year and half, she's finally ready to be friends with him.

She calls him back.

Only a couple rings later, he answers.

He doesn't say anything as if he is afraid to say anything. Afraid he will say something and she will flee. So, she speaks first.

"Hello."

"Spencer, I-I can't believe it's you," he seems aghast. And honestly, she is a little too. She is having a conversation with him. It's not just him doing the talking now. It's two sided.

"It's me." She clarifies, breathing out slowly.

He waits, he inhales, "I'm really glad you finally got back to me. I wasn't sure if that year of messages was all just lost somewhere. Apparently they finally reached you..."

It's a slight jab, but she ignores it like she's ignored him for the past two years. "I'm calling about the voicemail."

"Yeah?"

"I think you're right," she declares. "Let's talk somewhere."

"Are you sure you want to?" he seems uncertain, maybe insecure. Hell, she would be too. She's been ignoring him for a year, and right now, she is talking rather dryly. Truth be told, she feels like she is just trying to get this over with-trying to get the first encounter out of the way so they can move past it.

She wonders if it's too late to be friends, to consider the idea of it...

"Yes." She states even though she is riveting with anxiety at the prospect of seeing him. Get it over with. Peel of the band aid.

"Okay, tell me where you are. I'll be there as soon as I can."

She gives him the name of the coffee/brew like place. He says he recognizes the name and knows the place, and will be over quickly.

Fifteen minutes pass. She is on her second cup. Her leg is shaking and she is more nervous than she'd like to admit. The more time that passes, the more nerves and anticipation fill her.

She thinks of the last time she saw him.

It was the end of December and her fourth year of college. She was on Christmas Break, even though it definitely was not a jolly time for her. It was cold and damp, and the chill of the wind was unforgiving. She came back to Rosewood for her break, with the sole purpose of seeing Toby.

He'd been in Rosewood for nearly six months now. They were on... weird terms. Their status was unclear. She didn't know if she had a boyfriend or an ex. Toby didn't seem to really know either.

He was surprised to see her. Both in a "why are you here?" way and a happy one. Spencer, for a split second, after seeing the ridiculous grin on his face upon seeing her, forgot why she was even so upset with him. It clicked again once she saw what he was wearing-a police uniform.

For those three weeks that she was in Rosewood, things were complicated between them. They fought a lot. They were in this stressful limbo between being together and being broken up. It was a fragile, stressful, time between them.

A few days before she was supposed to go back to London, they broke up-for good, for real.

They were at her parents house, in her old room, which looked much different now that her parents redecorated it. Her mother was at some business dinner in Philly. It was two days into the new year.

"I leave in three days," Spencer told him, even though, deep down, she knew he already knew.

"Yeah," Toby said, a bit crestfallen. They still had not figured things out.

The thing is, Spencer would understand if Toby was in the US for some special job opportunity or even if he just missed it, was unhappy in London, but he was in Rosewood for Charles. It was the principal of the thing.

"Will you come with me?"

It was the first time in months that she asked it. She wasn't sure if it was because she was hopeless, or angry, or just tired of groveling, but it had been a long time since she last asked. That time in her room would be the last time she ever asked him to come back with her.

He gave her a look, a pointed, empathetic look. He just stared for a minute before sighing, "we're so close."

She nodded as if she understood, but continued with, "well if you aren't coming, if you're going to stay here, then I can no longer commit to you."

She sort of hated herself for how she worded it. It's something she could imagine any member of the Hastings household saying. I can no longer commit to you. It sounded so formal, so lawer-y, but it was too late to take back the wording. It was said.

She also hated that it came to that point. The point where she was giving him ultimatums. _Do you truly love me? Then do this._ But in all honesty, she was insecure over the depth of his love for her. If he loved her so much, why did he hurt her so bad? If she loved him like she said he did, why was she giving him ultimatums? If they were so good together, why was she so extremely unhappy?

"I'm sorry, I can't."

And with that, with "I'm sorry, I can't," they were over with. Spencer told him he should go. He protested a little, but eventually listened and left. In one of his emails later that year he said he should have fought harder to keep her.

Three months or so later, Toby was the one to put the pieces together. He solved the mystery. It was Cece Drake, who apparently befriended Wren/Charles years before. Cece met him the day he escaped Radley. She then began helping him.

Her motive was unclear-on why she helped him, and why she took the body. It was theorized that she wanted to be Alison and Charles let her be. She took his body because she missed him. In any case, she was a psycho.

It didn't matter that Toby was the one who caught her/figured out the case, though. It didn't change the fact that, regardless of his intentions, he chose the case over Spencer. Spencer couldn't look pass it.

That's when he began trying to reach out to her after Cece got admitted into a mental hospital.

Now, a year and half later, she sits and waits for him at a strange coffee shop.

She looks down at her phone, checking the time, checking how long ago she called and calculating how many minutes have passed. When she looks back up, her mocha eyes bouncing around hurriedly and nervously, she skims over him. He is just another face in the crowd until she realizes she he isn't. She does a double take. He still hasn't noticed her.

She is in the back of the shop, past the long line of people; her table shoved between two other tables and a hipster sort of statue. She watches him through the gaps between the patient and impatient people, watching him as he moves his head around, his eyes searching. Her heart pounds inside her, her hands shaking. She holds her coffee cup, ceasing her jittering hands. She shoots her head downcast, ducking it into her drink. Just a few more seconds, she just needs a few more seconds to compose herself...

She breathes in, then out, then in again. She looks up.

He is standing over her, staring down at her with wide eyes and a frozen expression. She gasps a little. Seeing him from across the coffee shop is on thing, but up close and personal is a completely other story. She is blanched, her heart pounding and quickening, her mouth struggling to find words. He seems to be having trouble too, he just gapes at her, speechless. His mouth moves up and down, but nothing comes out.

She hasn't seen him in so long, but yet, he looks exactly the same. She supposes a year and a half doesn't affect appearance much, especially on guys. Maybe he looks a little bulkier, more toned and with a different hair cut. But that's all. He's still Toby. Her Toby, who isn't quite hers anymore.

"Hey," he finally lets out.

She clears her throat, but it still comes out with less confidence than she hoped. "Hey."

He looks at the seat across from her, he nods to it, "can I?"

She nods, inhaling and exhaling, her chest rising then falling.

He is across from her, his hands on his lap, his eyes fully on her. She can't look away.

"You don't want coffee or anything?" she questions meekly. She wants more time to process, more time to take hold of the situation. It occurs to her just now that this has been completely spontaneous and impulsive. She usually isn't the kind to not have a plan. She's not used to this.

"I'm okay," he states softly.

She nods curtly, not even sure why she is nodding. "Okay."

A prolonged pause builds between them, their eyes unblinking, unbounding off each others'.

"So," he finally states, "how have you been?"

"Good." She tells him. After a moment, she adds, "I'm an ER nurse." She forgets how long it's been since she's talked to him. He knows nothing about her last year and half, except for the information Emily or Hanna, or even Caleb, possibly gave out.

"How'd you decide to go into that?"

She shrugs, even though she does know why she decided to go into that. She doesn't feel like discussing it though. Not now. "I just liked it the most."

"I bet it's interesting."

"It is."

He is the one who breaks the eye contact. He looks down, putting his clasped hands on the table, twiddling his thumbs. He drags out a breath. He meets her eyes again. "I've missed you." Even though it's only three words. Three words that she's heard him say so many times throughout them, it really pulls at her heart strings. It's the glistening wistfulness in his eyes, the nostalgia in his frowning wrinkles, the sadness in his voice.

She sucks in a turbulent breath. "Yeah, I've missed you too," she offers.

"Then why have you not answered me? Not once. Not even to tell me to stop."

Her stomach rises and falls. She disconnects their stare once again, taking a sip of her coffee just to have something to distract herself with. She looks at an old man waiting in line. He looks so content with life, his glasses on the brim of his nose, a toothy grin on his face as the barista explains something to him.

"I know..." she murmurs, instead of giving him an answer. Her eyes go southward.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She takes in a deep breath. "No."

He squints his icy blue eyes at this, a hint of puzzlement crossing his features. "Then," he starts after a prolonged pause. "What do you want?" he inquires, leaning in closer, his elbows and arms on the table now.

"To be friends," she puts forth, taking in a deep breath with the words. "To be in each other lives at least..."

He waits a moment to respond. "Friends?" he looks at her incredulously, as if he has never even heard of the idea before. "Really?" he presses, narrowing his crystal blues on her.

"Yeah," she looks at him. "As I said, I... missed you." She has a hard time saying it, admitting it.

He measures the honesty of the proposal, looking at her skeptically. "Do you really think we could be friends?" he ponders. "Like, really, actually be friends? How many people do you know that have stayed friends with their exes?"

"Aria and Ezra did when they were broken up."

It's the first time she's seen him smile in years and it makes her heart jump back up into her chest. She doesn't even realize his reasoning for smiling though until he says, pointedly, "and now they are back together." Suddenly, his smile seems smug.

Spencer huffs out a breath, feeling a wave of defeat. She looks down. Maybe it is impossible to be friends with an ex, or at least in some cases. "Well, we aren't them."

They stare at each other a long time, tangled in a purge of intensity.

"I suppose," he finally offers.

"So, we can be friends?"

His shoulders drop down. He exhales. "We can." His shoulders tense, his body stiffening slightly. He brings his hands back onto his lap, and stares at them instead of her.

"What?" she demands. He seems unhappy with her proposition. He doesn't want to be friends.

He shakes his head glumly, his head bowed down. "We've never been just friends before, Spencer. At least not after we got together."

She realizes it's true. Every break up they've ever had-they steered clear of each other. They never decided to just be platonic. They were either together, or apart. There was no in-between for them.

"Well, you're still important to me," she admits reluctantly. "And I want you in my life."

"So do I," Toby picks his head up, catching her gaze. "But not in this way."

Her heart rockets out of her chest. She holds his gaze, registering his words. For a moment, a split second, she considers it. She actually considers dating him again. It'd probably start off good. They'd be happy and in love. It'd be passionate and comforting, and all the things a relationship should be. But then, they'd break up. Something would come up and destroy them, and she'd be yet again, crushed.

She dismisses the thought. They broke up for a reason; it's the same reason that broke them up all the times before. It would just break them up again.

She thinks of how hurt she was when he chose to go back to Rosewood, how he just dismissed her feelings and went without her approval. She gave him so many chances to come back. So many. And when she said it was over between them if he didn't come back, he still chose to stay in Rosewood. It made it clear what was most important to him.

"I really needed you to come back to London with me," she whispers, the heartache ripping from her voice and heart, everything, once again.

"I don't think you did," he argues. Still, still, he refuses to let her win this argument. "I think you were fine without me."

And maybe she was. Maybe she didn't need him like before. Like when A was actually around, but she was miserable fighting with him. "I loved you-"

"And I loved you, and still do, and if I thought for a second you were actually going to spiral, I would have come back, but Spencer, you did not need me as much as you thought you did. I think in a way, that's why you gave me that ultimatum. You knew what I would choose."

She sits there in shock. How can he possibly think this is the right thing to say while trying to get her back?

"Just because I didn't spiral and have an emotional break down doesn't mean I didn't need you."

"And I could have been there for you."

"From Rosewood." She deadpans, glowering at him.

"Yes, from Rosewood."

She shakes her head slowly. "You didn't see how much I was hurting. And if you did, then that's even worse."

"Look, I know that I did a few things wrong. I never should have gone without talking to you about it first. I, maybe, shouldn't have gone in the first place, but it would have all been pointless if I came back when you gave me that ultimatum. We came that far, we were almost through it, and then..."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that it'd be over within a few months? I couldn't have! And I was tired; tired of feeling like I came second to that fucking case."

"That case was about you. That case and you were the same. I was doing it for you."

"Well, it didn't feel that way."

She avoids his gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear and picking up her almost empty coffee cup. "I'm going to get another," she mutters, now looking at him.

She gets up, throws out her old coffee out and waits in line for a new one. This is probably the one time Spencer has ever been happy to be stuck in a long line. About ten minutes later, she returns to her seat. Toby is sitting there, his elbows perched on the table, his clasped hands cover his face, just like he used to do when he was stressed. He peeks through his fingers at her, before letting his hands fall to the table.

She sips her coffee, fluttering her eyes in another direction.

"If I came back, we wouldn't have been okay. We wouldn't have just bounced back. You would have still resented me for leaving you in the first place. You would have constantlyy questioned what would happened if you didn't give me that ultimatum," he professes.

She sets her coffee down, giving him her full attention.

"I would have been back, but not really. My mind would have been in Rosewood. We'd be awkward and tense, and just... ended up breaking up anyway. We were already kind of broken up before that, don't you agree?"

They were. In her mind, in his, they were. They just hadn't said it out loud. But that doesn't make Toby right about anything else.

"We would have worked through it," she stammers out, shaking her head. She inhaled shortly through her nose, then huffed it out. "We've gotten through much worse."

"Maybe, but it was the longest fight, break, whatever you want to call it, we'd ever had."

"Even if this were all true," she throws him a bone, adjusting her eyes on the corner of the table on his side. "It would have been better than it is now."

"Maybe you're right about that," he offers softly, "but I didn't know at the time that this would happen."

"What did you expect?" she snaps, her eyes zapping to his in fiery. "You didn't think my ultimatum was legit? You thought I'd just get over it?"

"No." He gives her a pointed look. He sighs, licking his lips afterward. "Spencer, you're so stubborn," he runs a hand over his forehead. He doesn't say it angrily, or annoyed, more exasperated.

The conversation lulls into a standby. She's tired of picking at dormant fights. It doesn't matter anymore.

She sucks in a breath, "Toby, whatever, okay? I just want to move past this. I realized that I don't want to go through life without you. I want to be friends. Can you be my friend?"

"Of course I can, Spencer," he quips up, offering a genuine, toothless smile.

She smiles back ever so softly. It's a smile of relief. "Cool."

Her phone lights up. A text from Hanna.

 **"COME OVER! TIME TO BINGE WATCH THE NICHOLAS SPARKS WHILE CALEB GOES OUT TO SEE NAKED WOMEN!"**

Spencer sighs, a little relieved to get away from Toby (she needs to move in gradually) and also a little disappointed. She spent most of her time with him rehashing old arguments.

"It's Hanna," Spencer states, locking her phone. She flicks her eyes up to him. "I gotta go."

He nods. "Have fun."

"Thank you," she tells him. They both stand up, walking towards the door.

"You too," she tells him. "You're going to a strip club?" Spencer raises an eyebrow, honestly not seeing Caleb as the type to do that at his bachelor party. But Hanna had strippers at hers. She supposes it's fair.

He flushes a little. "Yeah."

Spencer widens her eyes. "Fun."

He does a curt nod. "It was Leo's idea." Leo. Caleb and Toby's friend.

They exit the coffee shop. Toby holds the door open for her. They loiter in front of it for awhile, neither wanting to part ways just yet; the conversation still going.

"Well, make sure Caleb doesn't get too handsy." She's half joking. She knows how much Caleb loves Hanna, but she also would cut out his eyeball if he ever hurt her.

"I'm sure he won't," Toby defends, grinning ever so slightly. "I think Hanna's truly the only person he ever wants to get handsy with. I think he is just more excited to get hammered, to be honest."

"Well, make sure he doesn't drink too much either," Spencer points a finger at her ex-beau. "The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, and Hanna will be pissed if Caleb has to carry around a bucket the whole time."

Toby is flat out grinning now. He scratches his forehead a little. "I'll cut him off if things get too rowdy."

Toby has never been much of a drinker, or partier of any sort. She's never once seen him get a hangover or go over his limit. He never gets too drunk or sloppy. He always has control over himself. She is completely the opposite. She is a light weight, but still tries to out do everyone around her. She's sloppy and flirty when she's drunk. She just becomes a bigger mess than she already is.

"I'm sure everyone, including Caleb, at least in the morning, will appreciate it." She gives him an encouraging smile.

He smiles back.

They can do this. They can be friends. It'll work.

* * *

She tells her friends about her coffee shop talk with Toby. The reactions are not what she has hoped for. Hanna literally, audibly laughs in her face. She even brings up the time Aria and Ezra tried to only be platonic. "You mean like Aria and Fitz?" Hanna still calls him that, even though it's been years since he's been their teacher. "Yeah, you see how well that worked out. You and Toby will be engaged by fourth of July."

Emily looks concerned with the news, asking if she is "okay" to be friends with him, and if he is fine with just being friends too. Aria tells her she doesn't have to be friends with him, maybe friendly, but not friends. Spencer is left with an extreme lack of support.

"You can't be friends with exes," Hanna declares.

"How would you even know?" Spencer retorts. "When have you ever tried?"

"I haven't because I know it's _bull shit_ ," Hanna shrugs it off. She puts _The Lucky One_ into the blue ray player, and goes to sink back down into her recliner. She leans back into the chair, bringing out the foot rest. "Besides, I don't want to be friends with any of my exes. I mean, maybe like Travis? But honestly, I truly don't give a flying rat's ass about him now. I just don't _hate_ him."

Spencer gnaws at her lower lip, glancing at the TV. A commercial for a movie that came out like three years ago comes on. "Can you fast forward through these?" Spencer complains.

"No, we're talking," Hanna states. "Besides, I don't know where I put the remote."

Spencer groans.

"Emily is friends with Ali!" Spencer straightens up, excited, her coffee eyes wide and full. "And that's not a big deal."

"Spencer, it's different."

"How?"

"It just is," Hanna states, waving it off. "It's an exception," she states.

Spencer rolls her eyes, she leans her head into the chair.

"Toby really still has strong feelings for you, Spencer," Emily gives way. It makes her heart skip a beat, even if she knows it already.

Hanna sighs, she inches forward in her recliner chair, pushing the foot rest in. She perches her elbows on her legs, and puts her chin on her hands. "It's true. He's still in love with you. That, my dear Spencer, along with your history and relationship length, is _why_ it's different."

She huffs out a frustrated breath.

"They're right, Spence..." Aria adds into the conversation. "It's more difficult than you think."

"Why do you want him in your life, anyways?" Hanna asks abruptly.

"Hanna," Emily shoots her a glare, sticking up for her friend.

"I'm not bashing Toby, all right?" She states defensively. "I'm asking Spencer a question." She gives the brunette a pointed look.

"I just," she closes her eyes briefly. "He has been trying to get a hold of me for so long, and then he asked if he should stop messaging me, and I just... I don't want that."

Hanna groans. She runs her hands through her hair. "Okay, we know Emily is biased because she is best buds with Toby, and... To be honest, I am too. I'm really sorry, Spence, we are kind of friends now. I am rooting for you, not only because I thought you two were great together, but also because Toby has become my friend."

Spencer smiles at the blonde. "I've known all along that you've been friends with him, Han."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, you know everything, what else is new? Point is, I'm biased. Emily is too. Aria has to help you on this one."

Aria frowns at Hanna, half rolling her hazel eyes. She faces Spencer. "Do you still have feelings for him?" Aria finally unleashes the anticipated question.

"No... Yes, I don't know..." she huffs out through her nose. She looks at the TV screen. Still old commercials. "They are faded, but there. And it's just, I remember how it felt..." she speaks mindlessly, letting her friends shamelessly examine her thoughts. Her mocha eyes get lost, detaching from the screen and its contents. "And I miss feeling that way; he made me feel that way..."

She snaps out of her daze, taking in a deep breath. Her friends are looking intently at her. "I miss him, but there's a reason we broke up."

"Caleb and I broke up before, and now we are getting married in two days," Hanna points out.

"I thought you couldn't offer advice because you're biased?" Spencer cocks her head at her friend.

"Biased or not, it's true."

Spencer shakes her head, "I don't know. I don't want to be in a relationship with him again, it's just so much work," she heaves out. "It'd be so much easier to be friends."

"Well, there is a reason you weren't friends to begin with, Spence," Aria murmurs.

* * *

The rehearsal dinner goes well. Caleb isn't hungover for it. Toby stays true to his word. She doesn't talk to Toby much, and no drama ensues. Caleb and Hanna are being separated for the night. Caleb will be staying with his friend Leo. Hanna gets to stay in her apartment. They are all having a sleepover. Emily was already staying with Hanna, but Hanna had requested about three weeks ago, that Aria and Spencer sleepover too the night before the wedding. They couldn't say no to the bride, nor did they really want to.

If Spencer wasn't so used to staying up until dawn for her work, then she wouldn't be able to conquer the jet lag. She'd probably be in bed by 8PM. They only stay up until 1230 AM today, because Hanna has to be up at 11 PM for her hair and makeup appointment, but she still feels incredibly exhausted.

She hopes she gets an all right night of sleep tonight. That's all she can really ask for.

But, asking for that is too much.

She wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling out of control and anxious. She jolts awake from a dream.

This happens to her a lot. She always wakes up from unpleasant dreams, but the dream that woke her up tonight differs from all the rest that's happened before. This dream was about _Toby._

It was rather intimate and not at all platonic.

They were kissing, for starters. His lips were everywhere on her. They grazed over her collarbone and shoulder. His fingers were pulsating inside her. She was moaning his name, and he was looking her with the most utmost, adoring gaze.

She feels so insanely hot. A pit is in her stomach. Her mouth, dry.

She tries to go back to sleep. It takes about two hours, but she eventually manages to do so. She doesn't dream about him again.

* * *

Hanna is the definition of a bridezilla, and to make matters worse, Mona is now in their company. Spencer likes Mona. After everything they have been through together, she has managed to connect with the girl. Maybe not enough to give her a spot in her hypothetical wedding, but Hanna's relationship is much different with the girl. It always has been. Spencer likes Mona, but right now, she is driving her insane. She wants to use Hanna's veil to suffocate her. She keeps yelling out orders and commands. Spencer is on her second glass of wine of the day and it's only 1 PM.

The ceremony starts at 2 PM. Hanna has all her makeup on. Her hair is tied up into a beautiful bun and her lips are a bold, dazzling red. She is in the midst of putting on her giant, poofy, white dress. It has a corset and a million layers to it. Tiny, little Aria could get stuck in there and be lost forever. Spencer keeps a hold on her tiny best friend, as Emily and Mona help with Hanna's dress.

"Spencer can you go make sure that the harpist is here? Aria, go make sure that Caleb is doing OK."

"Of course," Spencer offers, taking a sip of her wine before setting it on the nearby table.

The two girls leave the room together, splitting down the hall in two different directions. Hanna is getting married in a giant chapel, upon a hill, overlooking a beautiful lake. It's the pinnacle of a perfect wedding. She has a harpist, a violinist, and a piano player to play as she walks down the aisle. She has red rose petals scattered up the aisle. The flower girl will just be adding to the decorated aisle way.

The harpist is here. Spencer is glad. She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago and Hanna freaked at the tardiness. Spencer rushes back to Hanna's room to tell her, but stops in her path upon seeing Toby.

She forgot how good he looks in a suit. The suit is charcoal, the vest is gold, and the tie is a light pink.

Caleb chose for his groomsmen to wear suits, not tuxes.

She hasn't seen Toby since she dreamt about him. She flushes a little.

"Hey," he murmurs a greeting.

"Hi," she greets back. She sucks in a breath, feeling a wave of nerves slam into her.

"You look beautiful." He glances her up and down a moment, making her feel more self-conscious than she already is. She wraps her arms around her chest. The dress is _short._ It an orchid pink, backless dress that poofs out at the waist. A gold, thick ribbon ties around the waistline, a bow in back. Her hair is up in a pony, curled and two locks of curls framing her face in front. Her makeup is soft, with pink lips, rosy cheeks, and soft golden eyes.

"Thank you," she nods, accepting the compliment. "You look nice, too."

He twinkles at this. "Thank you."

"See you around," Spencer mutters, taking a giant leap forward, eager to get away from him and the nerves that accompany him.

* * *

The ceremony is beautiful, and not only in a visual way. The vows are spoken from the heart. Hanna and Caleb pour their souls out to each other, so graciously and so openly. It makes Spencer tear up a little. Their love is so raw and pure; they're _so_ lucky to have found each other in such a dark world. The whole ceremony is heart warming. When she looks at them, she sees true love. They are madly, insanely in love with each other and deserve the most happiness in the world. She says that when she makes her speech later at the reception. She once told Caleb that she thought he was the best thing that's ever happened to Hanna, and she still thinks that today.

The reception is exciting, upbeat and has a delicious five-course meal. There is an open bar and dance floor. Spencer enjoys every second it, loving the atmosphere of being around close friends and love. She's tired of Camille, listening to her drone on about relationships and love. She's so exhausted with her roommate's negative attitude about _everything._ She is so much better off here-surrounded by her best friends; surrounded by _positivity_.

So, somewhere between her third and fifth glass of champagne, and sometime between _Dancing Queen_ by Abba and _Shake It Out_ by Taylor Swift, she decides she is going to move to New York. She even finalizes it by telling Aria.

Aria, who has as many drinks, if not more than Spencer, just hugs her and says she is glad she is "finally going to be an American again!" Surely, if she wasn't drunk, there'd be more questioning. It would _definitely_ not be this simple. But they're drunk, so it _is_ that simple

* * *

Spencer departs from the dance floor as the DJ puts on _A Drop In The Ocean_ by Ron Pope. She drops in a random seat, taking a swig of her Pink Moscato. She glances at Toby, who is on the other side of the hall room. He hasn't danced much. He has never been a big dancer.

She is so enticed by Toby, she does not even notice the man in front of her until he requests for a dance. "Would you like to dance?" he says.

She looks up. _Leo_.

She swallows, glancing at Toby. Leo's _cute_. He has olive skin and hazel eyes, his hair almost black. _But,_ and this is the annoying part, _he's friends with Toby._

"I shouldn't."

"C'mon," he beckons, his hand out for her to take, "it's not a _marriage proposal,_ it's a dance." There's a twinkle in his hazel eyes. He took off his jacket and tie. The first few buttons of his oxford shirt have been undone.

"I-Okay," she grabs it, pulling herself up.

They slow dance. He's pretty good. He spins her around and flings her out, only to pull her back in tightly. She smiles, forgetting how much she loves dancing like this. He brings her close to him, a toothless smile pressed out on his lips.

They don't speak until the middle of the song. He slows it down a bit, no longer performing any elaborate moves. She's both glad and disappointed. All the chamagne and moving was making her dizzy.

"Spencer," he says in a husky whisper that makes her shiver a little. Seeing him close up, she really sees how attractive he is.

"Mmm?"

"I have this friend. He says you're amazing."

Her eyes lock onto his. She doesn't even have to ask for him to say, "Toby."

She darts her eyes around, looking for him. She doesn't see him anymore.

"What else has he said?"

"Just that you guys have a lot of history," he strides them forward, then back, then sideways.

"That's true."

He pulls her into him again. He looks at her with a devious half smirk and hypnotizing eyes. "He refuses to go on any date I a give him. It's pretty annoying. I've hated you for a long time because of that."

She furrows her eyebrows, narrows her eyes on him and purses her lips together.

"I had to see what was _so_ great about you," he muses, twirling her around. He grabs her waist and moves his hand down her body. She locks a gaze with him again, feeling angry, yet turned on a little, but also insanely guilty. She wants this to end. She can't tell if he is hitting on her or... _what_. "I can see what Toby sees in you. I've been listening to you, watching you. You're smart, funny and beautiful. The full package."

"Thanks...?"

He chuckles. "You're my friend's girl, Spence," he says her nickname like he's known her for years. "I'm not trying to get with you."

"I'm not Toby's girl."

He gives her a curt nod, his upper lip rising a little in a quiver. "But you used to be, and you probably will be again," he winks.

She squints her eyes at him. "We're friends," she looks away. They had a brief halt in dancing. She attempts to start it up again, but he takes his hands off her. He steps back.

"We'll see."

* * *

The DJ announces there is one last song until Caleb and Hanna are going to say goodbye. It's _Give Me Love_ by Ed Sheeran. It was Hanna's _favorite_ song senior year. Spencer knows all the words because of her best friend's constant need to play it on _every_ car trip, ever.

Spencer watches her friends. Emily with her date-she feels bad for not remembering the woman's name-, Aria with Ezra and lastly, but certainly not least, Hanna with Caleb. She looks over at Leo, he has a woman with him. It's one of Hanna's friends at her fashion designer company, she thinks. Her eyes scan the room and eventually land on Toby.

He engages eye contact with her from a few tables over from her. He stands up and she looks down at her dress. She tugs it downward and runs her hands through her surely, ruined hair. He is standing over her within a few seconds.

"Wanna dance?" he flips up his thumb at the dance floor in a hand gesture. He doesn't sound excited, it's more resigned. She can't really tell how he is feeling.

But _does_ know how she is feeling. _Anxious, anxious and nervous, and losing all her liquid courage just with the one look he's giving her._

She sucks in a breath, "sure." She grabs onto the chair's top to pull herself up. They walk out to the dance floor.

Her heart pounds. She can directly feel her heart palpitations. It's not only in her chest, either. It's in her throat, it's in her neck, it's _everywhere._ She has become suddenly aware of her own heartbeat, and she wants nothing more than to just cover her ears and scream to block the sound out.

Their hands meet and lace together. She stays focused on them, watching them intertwine like they have hundreds of times before. He places his hand on the small of her back and she swallows. She grips onto his shoulder, refusing to meet his stare.

 _Give Me Love_ plays in the background of her beating heart.

 **And that I'll fight my corner,**

 **Maybe tonight I'll call ya,**

 **After my blood turns into alcohol,**

 **No, I just wanna hold ya.**

They aren't speaking, but it doesn't matter. Things are being said. They are talking, just not with _words._ He is holding her close, and it feels all too familiar. She feels that intensity, that glowing, radiance, she always felt with him. She feels _love_. It's a pit in her stomach, and she feels like she needs to throw it up. This isn't about the dream. This isn't her being turned on and boiled in lust. This is _love._

 **Give a little time to me or burn this out,**  
 **We'll play hide and seek to turn this around,**  
 **All I want is the taste that your lips allow,**  
 **My, my, my, my, oh give me love,**

If she looks at him now, she isn't sure she will be able to resist. She's too drunk, she's too helpless to him. The only thing she can do is look away. She can't even step away.

 **Give me love like never before,**  
 **'Cause lately I've been craving more,**  
 **And it's been a while but I still feel the same,**  
 **Maybe I should let you go,**

Tears sting in her eyes. Her breathing wobbles, along with her legs. She hangs onto him, wrapping her arms around him. She rests her head into his chest. Still unable to meet his gaze, she closes her eyes. A tear falls, she rubs her cheek into him to wash it off. She doesn't look at him to see if he notices, but she has a feeling he saw.

The song ends and he lets her go.

 _We Found Love In A Hopeless Place_ by Rihanna starts blasting. It seems perfect for Hanna and Caleb's exit song. Spencer braces Toby once the pop hit comes on. He looks lost, _gone,_ and dazed. She wonders if she looks as bad.

But she forces a smile at him. She forces a smile for everyone. She can be sad after.

* * *

So, after the wedding, it was clear she and Toby _could_ not be friends. Toby seemed to get that too. He hasn't talked to her since. He, and her friends were right. There is no such thing as platonic between them.

It's been two months since that day, and she hasn't stopped thinking about him. She misses him even more now. She is sure that her feelings for him have not diminished. She is still completely his. Leo was right.

Today, she will not be sad about Toby though. Today she is moving to New York. She has gotten an apartment and everything. She has a job lined up that starts Monday. And she is more than excited to live in Manhatten with Hanna so nearby.

She isn't even sure if Toby _knows_ she is back. Did Emily or Hanna tell him? Or did Hanna tell Caleb, and Caleb told Toby? It seems like he _has_ to know with the amount of mutual friends they have.

If he does know though, he hasn't mentioned it to her. Then again, he hasn't mentioned _anything_ to her.

She really misses him.

* * *

It's been three months since the wedding, and one month of living in New York, when she finally contacts Toby.

"Hello," Toby answers shyly.

"Hey," she greets.

Silence.

"I heard you live in New York now," Toby states.

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, that's pretty close to Rosewood..." he puts forth. "We should catch up," he offers half-heartedly. It's like those old facebook posts. _Truth is, we need to hang soon! Miss you!_ It's maybe a true proposal, but it will never happen.

"Funny that you mention that," She voices. She looks in her rearview mirror, sucking in a breath. "I'm actually in Rosewood, right now."

 _"What?"_

"Yeah," she speaks. "I'm here."

"Why?" he inquires.

"To see you..." she admits apprehensively, looking away from her reflection.

"Oh okay, well... Come stop by. I haven't moved."

"Great. I'll be there in five minutes."

This wasn't some impulsive thing. She's been thinking about it a lot. She's been hanging out with Leo a lot. He's been spilling beans about Toby, unlike Caleb or even Hanna or Emily. He's been telling her things that no one else would. She doesn't know if this makes Leo a bad friend or good one.

He told her that Toby tried to move on for a week and then gave up. He said he's never given up-never said one bad word about her, even when Leo _begged_ him too. He told her how Toby almost went to London, bought plane tickets and everything but stopped once he saw her FB official relationship. (It was her three-month relationship.) He said Toby never stopped loving her.

So how could she _not_ cave and go see him?

She arrives at his loft, and she doesn't even have to knock, he already is pulling open the door. She thought she'd feel less nervous seeing him this time, but she was wrong. She is still completely a mess.

They exchange a nervous, shy greeting before she steps inside. She refuses a cup of coffee, already too jittery as it is. She accepts water instead. They sit at his kitchen table.

"Why did you never tell me that you were going to come to London?" she blurts out.

"What?"

"Leo said that you were going to come to London, but stopped because I was in a relationship."

"Oh." He sucks in a short breath. He puffs out his cheeks, glancing around skittishly. "I-," he shakes his head, "I don't know. Would it change anything?"

"Every detail changes things," she declares meekly. She frowns, "He also told me you haven't been in a single relationship since me. You've been on _one_ date, and then called it quits on moving on."

"Leo is a horrible friend," Toby grunts, rolling his eyes slightly. He is flushing a little, not engaging in eye contact.

"But he's truthful...?"

"Yes." Toby assures, shyly, peeking up at her through his eyelashes.

She sucks her lips in, an indent in her forehead forming. "Why?" she questions hoarsely.

"Because I don't want to be with anyone if it's not you," he professes, looking at her fully now.

She gapes, her heart pounding again.

"I kissed someone else and it just felt so _wrong_. I was still in love with you, and it's wrong pursue someone-anyone-when you're in love with your ex."

Her throat closes. "Oh."

Silence.

"Do you want to do something? Go somewhere?" he requests. She is pretty sure he is asking for a _date._

 _"_ In Rosewood?"

"It doesn't have to be," he shrugs. " But, this town isn't the same place it used to be..." Toby claims. "It's no longer a monster."

She squints him. " _Sure..."_

* * *

He takes her to the Grille, which is no longer the Grille. The Grille went out of business two years before. Now it is The Den. They talk over dinner and some wine. Toby pays for the meal. After, he takes her to the movies. In the small town of Rosewood, there is only three movies and four showtimes for each one. They see a Comedy and it ends at about 9 : 30 PM.

"One more place..." he tells her.

"Fine," she stretches out her arms over her head. "But I'm tired. Can we stop at the Brew first? For some coffee?"

He rolls his eyes jokingly. "Sure," he tells her. "We can walk."

"It's nice to know the Brew stayed. It was one of my favorite places here."

"Because it has coffee..." Toby teases.

She bumps her side into his as they walk down the sidewalk. It's almost a full moon. Tomorrow it will be. The streetlights are on, and a lot of shops have turned their lights off. Compared to New York, it's pretty quiet and dark. It used to feel so ominous here in the dark, not even just here, but everywhere. But now it feels different. She has a night light. She has Toby beside her, and he makes her feel safe. He always has.

There is no line for The Brew. She gets an iced coffee, no cream or sugar, and they leave.

"I wonder who lives in the loft now?" Spencer ponders aloud as they walk back to Toby's car.

"Mmm, I think it's some weird old man," Toby states. "I always see him. Once I said I used to live there, that I renovated in it, and he told me to mind my own business."

She laughs. Even when the humor of the situation ceases, the smile on her face stays present.

He opens the car door for her, just like he always has, and she can feel herself just falling more and more for him. Even just by that simple act.

* * *

He takes them to the place they would always go to-the cliff above Rosewood.

"Now, _this_ was my favorite spot," Spencer states.

"I know." He smiles at her.

They get out and go closer to the edge. They sit on the rock they always used to. His side bumps into hers, their legs touching. Her breath hitches at the contact.

They just stare at the view for a while, unspeaking. He wraps his arm around her and she leans into him naturally like no time has passed.

Some time later, she murmurs up his name.

"Yeah?" he responds.

She kisses him. Her lips brush over his, the gentle night breeze brushing past her cheek and pushing her hair back. She realizes that Toby was right. _This_ is right, and everything else had been wrong. Everything else was her rebounding. She has never gotten over him. She's still in love with him, and although that terrifies her, she can't let him go. She can't un-fall in love with him, therefore she cannot fall for anyone else. Not truly anyways.

He kisses her back, a hand running through her hair and the other pulling her body close. The kiss is long and passionate, and _life changing._

She pulls her lips back, her eyes capturing his. She cups his face in her hands. His cheeks flush crimson and his eyes speak joy. "If we get back together, then... then we can't break up again," she holds him tightly. "Because I can't go through that again."

"I want to be with you _forever,_ " he declares solemnly. "Spencer, I'd marry you _tonight._ "

She bites her lower lip, lowering her chin. "Really?"

"Yes," he answers with no hesitation. "I know, I've made some mistakes, and I know that I can't promise that I will not make them again, but I promise that I won't go too far again. I won't, Spencer. I'll stay by your side."

"I think I just hated that you refused to listen to me. I think you were right, I was heartbroken, but I didn't _need_ you there. It was just... the principle of the thing, and now that I think about it, that's a really stupid reason to make myself miserable without you."

"It's not stupid," he reassures, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's not Spencer, you have no reason to be guilty about _anything."_

"You called me stubborn," she recalls sheepishly.

"I did, and _you are,_ but you don't need to apologize for it," he grins toothlessly, his clear blue eyes glistening over with bliss.

She grabs his chin in her hands, feeling the indent of it with her fingertips. He wraps his arms around her, holding her as tight as possible. She readjusts herself and overlaps her legs over his before their lips collide again. This time it's deeper, more like the kissing in her _dream._ His tongue traces the outlines of her lips, and she opens her mouth more, shoving her own tongue down his throat. She desperately craves him. It's been so long-too long. She needs him, craves this intimacy with him.

"Toby, can we go somewhere a little more private...?" she breathes out, their lips detaching a moment before reconnecting.

He stares at her with his intense blues. "Yes."

He scoops her up, a giggle erupting from her mouth. He kisses her once more before walking over to his car, she still in his hold. He sets her on the hood of the car, grabbing onto her and kissing her again. She pulls him close, bringing him between her legs. She wraps her legs around him, guaranteeing that he won't stray. She doesn't want to ever lose contact with him again.

He kisses her deeply and hungrily, consuming her and desperately trying to make up for the time they lost. She forgot this feeling. She remembered, but it was faded, it was so, outrageously flattened into something else. It was one dimensional, her memory of this, her memory of him, and now that it's happening, it's infinite dimensions. Love, it has to be another dimension, it has to be infinite dimensions, somehow formed into one. She doesn't understand how one person can make her feel like this-how he is the only one who has ever made her feel like this. It's incomprehensible, her love for him.

She realizes she hasn't said it-hasn't told him what her heart has been sounding out all night; all this time. "I love you," she pants urgently.

"I love you, too," he murmurs softly.

They crawl into the bed of his truck. His new truck is more spacious, better for what they are doing, but she still misses the other one, which he left behind once he went to London.

The devour each other, touching and feeling each other in every single way. This is the intimacy she needed.

* * *

After they make love, she recalls the words he said earlier that night. " _I'd marry you tonight."_

And maybe it's the exhaustion, or the adrenaline rush of having sex in his truck at nearly midnight, or just the over empowering love she feels toward him, but she says, "Marry me."

"What?" he murmurs.

"Let's run away together. Let's go get married somewhere."

"Spencer, are you insane?" he muses, twinkling and beaming. She has his full attention. "Wait... are you being serious?" his grin mellows into something else entirely.

She nods, "I want to marry you, and I don't want to go through all the engagement bullshit."

"You're ridiculously impatient," he chuckles.

She laughs along with him, biting her lip afterward. "Did you mean it before? When you said you'd marry me tonight?" she meekly prompts.

"Yes," he immediately responds. "But there is so many things we have to sort through. Spencer, we _just_ got back together. You don't want to wait?"

"I don't have to," she quickly promises. She strokes his cheek with her hand. "I am in love with you," she gleefully, breathily laughs. "And I'm asking you to elope with me. For reals. Will you do it?"

He nods. "I mean, I wanted to ask you _first,_ but yes. "

She giggles, bowing her head down in bliss and at the memory of when they first said "I love you." "Well, now you know how I felt when you said you loved me first."

"Mmm, I guess I do," he smiles lazily. He kisses her nose, giving her an Eskimo kiss after. Her smile is luminous, she's radiating with bliss. "I love you, Spencer, andI want more than anything to be your husband, so yes, let's elope."

She pushes her mouth into his, their noses bumping beside each other and their foreheads touching. She smiles into the kiss and he does too. They are both so incredibly happy.

"It's crazy, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"But I want to do it," she stands by it.

"Me too," he agrees. "In fact, it kind of feels right. Fitting, almost."

She nods in understanding. She beams at him. "So, then, let's go get married."

* * *

 **a/n: ahhhh if you read this giant mess, please leave a review xx i love you guys**

 **p.s. like i've had this idea in my head that these two crazy kids get eloped ever since troian said she thinks they should...soo...**


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